


A Bower Scene

by whenthetimescomes



Category: Campaign (Podcast), Campaign: Skyjacks
Genre: I Am Not Immune To Tied-Up Travis, Light Bondage, Other, Praise Kink, Restraints, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:20:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27369454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whenthetimescomes/pseuds/whenthetimescomes
Summary: Really, tying Travis up then fucking Gable in front of himwasa stroke of genius, if she says so herself.
Relationships: Gable/Margaret/Travis Matagot, Gable/Travis Matagot
Comments: 10
Kudos: 17





	A Bower Scene

**Author's Note:**

> Making my Skyjacks fandom debut with some ot3 porn! How very on brand.

There were so many options to choose from, for this moment, but Margaret is hard pressed to imagine any that would be as delightful as this one. This one has Gable underneath her, undressed, pressed to the bed by her light touch across their chest. This one has Travis sprawled out a little higher up the bed, arms tied to the bedpost with velvet ribbon. He's watching their every move with wide, hungry eyes. Really, tying Travis up then fucking Gable in front of him _was_ a stroke of genius, if she says so herself. 

The inn room is warm, lit a dim golden by the lamp on the wall. It’s night, and Travis is human, and this had started off slow and hesitant but Margaret knows they’re all beyond that now, knows it by the way Gable is sighing beneath her. 

However they ended up doing this, tying up Travis had always been part of the plan. It had been ever since she’d caught him staring at her ribbons, ever since she’d looped one jokingly around his wrist and looked up at him to see pink dusted across his cheekbones. Right now, he looks beautiful, wrists crossed above his head, hair shaken loose around his shoulders. He’s still dressed, too, but tousled, shirt tugged open. The ribbons are red, crisscrossing over his wrists. Margaret had begun tying them, kneeling at Travis’s side, but then she’d caught a glimpse of Gable, sitting cross legged at the bottom of the bed, watching them intently. 

"Would you like to…?" she’d offered, and then she’d sat back and watched the two of them bicker, even as they couldn’t stop staring at each other as if seeing each other for the first time. 

"Your fingers are cold," Travis had complained, trying to pass it off unaffectedly, as Gable wound the ribbons around his hands. Gable hadn’t responded, but they’d dipped their head and kissed his wrist, and the shuddering note in Travis’s exhale will stick in Margaret’s head for a long time. He had tried, seemingly instinctually, to put a hand up to catch in their hair, but had come up short against his restraints. 

"Hey, now," Gable had said, and Travis had just tipped his head up brazenly. Gable, despite their reprimand, looked at him indulgently and leant down to kiss him, with a hand on the back of his head. Travis had made a noise in the back of his throat, and Gable answered with a hum, putting their other hand on his shoulder. 

This is a side to Travis and Gable that Margaret hasn’t seen before, this indulgent playfulness. Teasing built on a base of firm, solid familiarity. More than that, built on comfort, on _trust._ It’s fun, and Margaret likes fun things. It also made her wonder. 

"Have you done this together before?" she asks now. Gable’s eyes are closed and they have one hand tight on Margaret’s hip, the other in the bedsheets. She can’t help but smile at the sight of the blissed out expression on their face. It’s so unusual to see Gable like this. She’s been a Black Lily for years, but the thrill of undoing people like this never fades. 

"We’ve talked about kissing and telling," Travis says, amusement in his voice. 

"You can tell her," Gable says, breathlessly. "I don’t care."

Margaret raises an eyebrow at him questioningly. 

"Yeah, once or twice. Not quite like this," he admits, nodding towards his bound hands. 

"I th- I think the time I held you down counts as like this," Gable points out. 

Travis tilts his head. "I guess. That was pretty hot."

"It sounds it," Margaret says. "We’ll have to experiment with that one, won’t we, Gable? It’s been _quite_ a while since I was last restrained. I've missed it."

Despite the fact that Margaret is actively fucking Gable, somehow that’s what makes them blush and look away. She takes a moment to picture it, too— being held down by Gable as they fuck her, or watching as they fuck Travis. They’re all good images. 

_"Margaret,"_ Gable says, in a voice so low it's practically a whisper. 

"Mm?" Margaret responds pleasantly, settling herself again and kissing Gable's neck. 

"You’re a _wonder,"_ they say, and Margaret's good at accepting praise, but there's something in Gable's tone that makes her face go warm. They sound so completely honest, all defenses stripped away. No calculation, just an expression of pure truth. She moves again, making Gable gasp. 

Travis is watching her, she knows, watching both of them, so she isn't surprised when he speaks. "Oh, tell her that again," he says. "I think she liked that." 

"Don't tell me what to do," Gable says, but the timbre of their voice betrays them once again, the addicting mix of pleasure and desperation plain. Travis laughs on another shaky exhale. 

Margaret takes their face in her hands and kisses them. Gable makes a soft, pleased noise, and then a hungrier one when she pulls back. Travis's breath catches audibly at the sound, and she shoots him a sly glance. "What do you think, Travis? Did you want to touch our dear Gable, here? Maybe kiss them, or bite them- mark them up so everyone knows what they let you do to them when they’re working tomorrow?"

"I-" he says, and god, he's a pretty sight right now, his mouth is open a little as he watches Margaret and Gable. 

_"Please,"_ Gable says, and it isn't clear if they're addressing Travis or Margaret. Their breathing is fast and unsteady, and suddenly a thought strikes her. 

"Our _darling_ Gable," she says, experimentally, ghosting her fingers over their side and watching the way they shiver. "Beloved."

Their eyes are closed again, and Margaret watches in delight as they bite their lip, hard, at her words. 

"We _adore_ you," she says, and laughs as Gable tugs her down to kiss her again. 

Travis makes a tiny noise, and when Margaret looks over, he’s pulling against his restraints languidly, clearly revelling in being unable to slip free. "Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Matagot," she assures him. "In fact. Gable, dearest," she says, "Wouldn’t you like to pay some attention to Travis?"

She watches both their reactions, the tension, the trust. It’s electric in their eye contact. She wonders what they're picturing as they look at each other, unraveled and breathless. 

Perhaps she'll ask them. Make them describe their fantasies of each other, touch them both separately until they're calling her name and each other's indiscriminately. Or, she could do something else. There are so many options, and they have all the time in the world. 

Oh, but this is going to be so much _fun._

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [man idk](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27541807) by [knivesnight (EgNogg)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EgNogg/pseuds/knivesnight)




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